Khao Lak... a quiet alternative to Phuket.

For the longest time (since I was there in 2012), I thought I didn’t like the Phuket area of Thailand. The crowded beaches and tourist-heavy areas never appealed to me. However, my recent trip to Khao Lak proved me wrong. Nestled on the Andaman Sea, just over an hour’s drive north of Phuket International Airport, Khao Lak is a peaceful haven that offered me the perfect blend of reflection and adventure. Two places that changed my mind: the Tsunami Memorial on the beach (and the massages right next to it) and staying at Pakarang Surf Beach.

A Tribute to Resilience: The Tsunami Memorial

Khao Lak's beautiful coastline holds a sobering history. On December 26, 2004, the region was one of the hardest hit by the devastating Indian Ocean tsunami. The natural disaster left an indelible mark on the area and its people. Today, visitors can pay their respects at the Tsunami Memorial on the beach, a poignant tribute to those who lost their lives.

The memorial features a police boat, Boat 813, that was washed over a kilometre inland by the force of the tsunami waves. This boat has been preserved as a stark reminder of nature's power and the resilience of the human spirit. Walking around the memorial, I felt a profound respect for the community’s strength and their ability to rebuild from such tragedy. There’s something very sobering about hearing the sound of waves crashing just metres away as I look at all the names on the wall of people who lost their lives.

Side Note: The massage huts right next to the memorial are perfect for a pre-visit. I had one of the best massages this visit here.

Riding the Waves: Pakarang Surf Beach

Pakarang Surf Beach provided the salty Vitamin Sea adventure I had been craving. This beach is a favourite among local surfers. Another reason I love it - the local feel. Windy sand paths between the trees that border the beach, a river you have to wade (as tide comes in) to get to the beach, local fishermen that leave their nets and baskets on the beach, local surfers having beers at Memories each night… it all makes me feel like I’m in the right spot.

The surf season in Khao Lak typically runs from April to November, so I was unsure I’d get waves. I did - they were small. But I got my daily salty surf fix. I hired a board each day at the laid back Memories Beach Bar, and only on the last day I was bitten by a jellyfish. The signs had been up for days at the resort, and nobody seemed to care. And to be honest, I hadn’t paid any attention either. I was bitten when I first got in, but didn’t know what the sting was about, so kept surfing, splashing water and holding it to stop the sting. It was only when I got out of the water that the sting intensified. It stayed with me until I was on the plane, half way home to Adelaide, that evening. Ouch.

If you love the local, surfy vibe, then I’d recommend you go to Pakarang, but slightly later - for bigger and more waves. Staying at Apsara Beachfront Resort was the perfect spot, being able to check for waves from my window or from the beachfront pool lounger.

I went to Khao Lak thinking I didn’t like the Phuket area, but I left with a new appreciation for this part of Thailand. The poignant and reflective atmosphere of the Tsunami Memorial and the adventurous yet relaxed vibe of Pakarang Surf Beach completely changed my perspective. If, like me, you’ve been hesitant about visiting Phuket, consider taking a trip to Khao Lak. It’s a testament to the beauty and resilience of nature and humanity, and it promises an enriching and unforgettable experience.

Hands Across the Water charity bike ride 2024 with a crappy camera...

I did it! I’m ‘adventurous’ enough to brave Thailand’s hot, humid 40-degree days for five consecutive days. On a bicycle.

But do you know why? It’s for the incredible kids we support. Kids who need our help for shelter, school, and food – a life of choice, not chance.

And you know what keeps me going? The amazing people I ride with. This year, it was a lively group of nearly 70 (described by one rider as "bat-shit crazy") business owners from Business Blueprint.

The hardest part? The training. I don’t like riding bikes. It’s boring, especially on my own.

The best part? Riding through Thailand with a bunch of fantastic people. And especially the last day, riding in to meet the kids at the home. Those are happy tears.

Every year, I take my GoPro and a snap camera. They’re easy to hold in one hand and tuck away in my handlebar bag. Am I thrilled with the quality? Not really. But do I have fun with it? Absolutely.

Here are the pics…

Feel like being adventurous while doing a damn good thing? Check out a future ride here - https://www.handsacrossthewater.org.au/

Hands Across the Water for HomeHug children - tax deductible photo shoot offer.

In 2019, I rode around Kanchanaburi for five days, getting heat exhaustion, suffering knee pain and generally just pushing myself along in 45-degree heat.

It wasn't these memories I remembered when I signed up to do it again this year. It was the faces that lit up when we rode into the orphanage on the last day, the friendships I made while riding, the difference I could see I was making in these little lives that made me sign up again.

I'm also a sucker for punishment. I mean, 500km of riding a bike through Thailand's humid heat - who would want to do that? Don't we go to Thailand for the beach holiday?

In September this year, I am riding again. This time through the Isaan Region in northeast Thailand.

"Starting in the city of Bueng Karn, our riders will spend two days following the incredibly bio-diverse Mekong River before heading west through villages and rural communities not often visited by foreigners. Following a well-deserved rest day, the team will ride into one of our homes, Home Hug in Yasothon, to be greeted excitedly by the children they have worked so hard to support." - Hands Across the Water.

100% of the money I raise will go to the children. Hands Across the Water do not take any admin fees out. I have committed to raising at least $5000, and I'm doing this by offering 100% tax-deductible mini photoshoots.

The money raised will go to Baan Home Hug, a home to 130 children today, many of whom have HIV and do not know or have no connection with their parents.

Do you want any new photos? Of course you do! We always want new pics; it's just a matter of budget control.

Need more content? Let's face it, we all do. Always.

Renovated and need an updated pic? Brag about it.

New menu? How about you show off the new dishes to your customers.

Portrait? Let's celebrate you!

Family photo? When was your last one?

This fully tax-deductible photoshoot is a perfect way of getting more photographs to showcase YOU. Get in touch with me to organise.

Songkran - Thailand's water festival.

What is Songkran?

Well, there is a lot of water involved and don't go to Bangkok (or perhaps many areas in Thailand) if you want to stay dry during this time - that's what I know!

In 2019 it was celebrated 13-15th April, and I was lucky enough to land in Bangkok during this time.

Officially, Songkran is a celebration of the Thai New Year's national holiday.

The night I arrive, I'm not sure what I'm walking into. I wander out of the hotel, getting a warning from a soaked guest, to be prepared to get wet. I grab a beer in a bar nearby and watch from a safe distance. I see grown men with huge grins on their faces. I see people squirting random people then running, like kids again. Staff in bars have hoses or buckets to throw over people who walk by. Cheeky and fun. I love it. I want part of it.

Next day, I buy myself a water gun and head to Silom - where there is a huge street party dedicated to Songkran and being cheeky with water. We are all here for one reason - to get wet while having FUN! And do I ever. The grin on my face never leaves. I scream with laughter. But then quickly close my mouth because when I turn from one squirt I'm turning into another squirt. All I can do is look down. And then shoot back.

My gun is ok but I'm now realising size does matter. I should have gone the biggest one, as all the boys did. My gun can only push water out several metres, but it also means I conserve water. Not that water is a problem here. Locals are set up every metre or so selling water refills out of big buckets - often filled with ice. And that's the other surprise - sometimes we are getting wet with warm water, sometimes with icy cold water. Even more screams.

Don't come here and worry about the "non-bottled water on your face" safety warning. Come here with the "I only live once, and today I'm going to have fun" attitude. You will get just that. I love being a kid again for a day... laughing, being silly, screaming, having fun with strangers.

500km Hands Across the Water Thailand bike ride

One day close to Christmas I get a message from my cousin.. ‘today is the last day to sign up’. She is talking about a charity bike ride through Thailand with her business mentoring group. I had expressed interest earlier but was undecided. But this email made something click inside me. I did a few checks to see if I could organise getting my children looked after on those dates and signed up. Eek. I wasn’t sure what I’d just signed up for - but I knew I’d be riding a bike 500km through Thailand. And that I’d be needing to raise $5000 plus pay my $2000 odd fee (not including flights and accommodations before and after the trip) for the privilege.

Guess I’d better dust off my bike then. She had sat in my carport for a few years without being ridden. I checked if it still worked and all but a flat tyre, she was good to go. For the next four months, I’d be getting friendly with my bike. We would spend anywhere from an hour to three with each other at least three times a week. We’d travel the coast, we’d cruise down to Willunga, and we’d push up to Old Reynella on the Shiraz Trail. And when I couldn’t get outside, I’d pop her into a trainer and spin for an hour or so inside once the kids had gone to bed, YouTube running.

Now, it's Anzac Day, and I’ve just finished up my 500km ride through Thailand. I arrived home today, took one look at her then kept walking. I don’t mind not seeing my bike for a little while. It’s not that I don’t like her, it’s just that I’m sick of riding. I’m not a cyclist.

One of our pitstops between legs. A great chance to meet the locals in the rural areas.

I’ll get to the ride in a second but here’s what I learnt in the last few months in the saddle (yep, that's what the seat is called).

1. Padded bike shorts are your best friend.

2. So is bum cream.

3. Drafting helps get you further with much less effort.

4. Good conversation goes a long way to making legs (a term for a component of a bike ride) feel shorter.

5. When cycling all day in 40-degree plus heat, you can never have too much water and ice.

So… to the ride.

The hardest part. The heat.

I am not sure I can describe what it feels like to ride 7am until 5pm in 45-degree heat. The sweat pours off. The headache is near constant. Bags of ice melt in minutes. The hot wind does nothing to make me feel better. Waiting to push off, sweat dribbles from my neck bandana of ice down my back. Sweat pools behind the knees and dribbles into my shoes. Sloshing water over our head that has had everyone's hands in it is welcomed. Icy water being tipped over me only startles me for a second or two before it warms up and melds with the sweat.

The physical.

Riding 135km in one day in this heat is something I still can't comprehend how we completed. I think it is just a matter of pushing the pedals round and round like the song 'the wheels on the bus go round and round' but for a bike.

Taking it one leg at a time. Cruising while having a chat or pushing myself to keep pace - knowing that by getting to the next rest stop, I’d have time to sit in the shade and recoup. Attempt to cool me down, rehydrate and prep for the next leg. After all, it was only an hour or so in the sun at the one time.

With a buddy to rely on, and a buddy relying on me, we push on. Looking ahead, eyes up. Heck, sometimes we’d even have a chuckle. People fall. People pull out. People slow. People power on. Everyone suffers, or are pushed through, at a different level. Even the fittest of cyclist, the seasoned Thailand riders, struggle at times. People grow quiet, then silent. We all cope in our own way. The jokers quieten. We all agree, it isn’t the physical nature of the ride taking its toll on us, it is the heat.

Seriously, at home, we’d be cooped inside with air-conditioning blasting, not out wandering around in this heat. We wouldn’t even dream of exercising in it for just an hour - and here we are now riding all day in it. Crazy. But crazy with a cause.

The landscape.

From highway to dirt. We rode them all.

Each day is different. Some days we have undulations. Some days are flat. Some days are 75km, and we finish before lunch. One day is 145km, and at dusk, we are still riding. It is decided we have to cut 10km off our ride this day, to avoid riding in the dark. Safety first. Haha. That sounds funny… we can’t ride in the dark, but we can ride all day in this heat.

Early morning to late afternoon, we rode. I loved the legs before lunch before the heat set in.

There is a lot of farmland, burnt out paddocks and shanty towns. Flat (ish) plains turn into mountains, dirt roads and leafy sided roads. Highways thin to concrete single width country lanes to pot-holed dirt tracks. At one stage we have to dismount and walk our bikes through a section of road being resurfaced. The sand sinking our wheels as soon as we hit it.

Sometimes things were unexpected. Like re-building a road once the reccie had been done. No worries.

The riders.

Riders are from all over Australia and New Zealand, and one lady coming from the USA. We are used to all different temperatures. And our fitness levels are just as varied, as are our ages. Our youngest is 16 and the oldest is Dale’s dad in his 60s (from memory - eek). But one thing we have in common is our reason for doing it - to help the kids. And we all possess the mental can-do attitude that helps push us through our dark moments. We have one girl that does zero training through to our every week cyclists.

How do I go?

Good conversations make the km’s fly past.

Physically - I am fine. Well, apart from tingly toes and one pulled muscle in my left leg which voids that leg of doing any pushing up hills. It's nearly a week since I have finished riding and I still have tingles in my right foot.

Heat - so-so. I get heat exhaustion on day three and think I’m going to have a hospital visit. I spend the night barely unable to lift my head from the bed. I am trying to hydrate as much as I can but clearly not enough. After this night on my bed and head in a toilet I ensure I always have water within reach. I enlist a second bottle to stick in my back pocket while riding. That way I don’t have to ration. It helps. And when I get a headache, I drink even more, rather than thinking it’s normal. Obviously, there is no such thing as too much water on this ride. And I also eat more. More fruit, peanut brittle, chips and sweets. The first few days I was only stocking up on fruit during breaks - having more substance makes me feel better for the second half of the ride.

Riding into the Kanchanaburi orphanage on the last day completes the ride in many ways. Not only are we physically finishing it, but we are also seeing the reason why we have gone through all the pain right before us. Bright, smiling kids that are being given a chance of choice because of us are waving us in to the song of 'We are the Champions'.

The money we have raised through doing this ride will fund Kanchanaburi orphanage for a year. This orphanage that has given life back to over 50 kids that have, in one way or another, have no family to give them life. Spending a few hours with these amazing children is the best reward I can receive. And dancing with these energetic, happy souls in the evening is the icing on top.

Here is some video from 'in the saddle' of the trip... plus the wonderful night of celebration with the kids. Non, the child I was 'riding' for (when needing mental support on the ride we thought about a child we were helping) is a cheeky, small 12-year-old with an infectious smile. I loved meeting him and will remember his beaming face always.

Day 1

Day 2

Day 3

Day 4

Day 5

Celebration Night

Riding 500km in 5 days - am I crazy?

Have you ever done a charity challenge? Where you fundraise for the charity and then go off on a challenging trip that tests yourself? Sometimes getting to see first hand where and how your fundraising efforts are being used.

I've always wanted to, but never created the opportunity until now. heidi who photos has joined forces with The Family Law Project and together we are riding with another 70 odd riders through Thailand in April.

About what I'm doing...

I'm going to ride 500km in 5 days through Thailand to raise money for the New Life project in Kanchanaburi, located near the Thai-Burma border in western Thailand. More than 50 children call Kanchanaburi home.

Children at Kanchanaburi have come from difficult situations: sexual abuse, substance addictions, or they have no family to care for them. Others have been used as exploited labour.

I need to fundraise $5,000: 100% of donations go directly to the children in Thailand. It's a lot but I believe I can get more!

How you can help:

I am creating an online auction... but need some prizes! Anything would be helpful. If you could donate something, please reply and let me know what you can commit to by Wednesday 23rd January 2019. The auction will go live towards the end of January, when everyone is recovered from the summer holidays. :)

And in return (apart from the feel-good factor of helping me raise this money for the kids) I will smother your logo/tag name all over everything in the promo for it. I'll also mention on social media and in a blog post that goes out to an email list of nearly 1000.

I can also give you a hug. Who doesn't love a hug?

So you know who I'm riding with - here's a bit about Hands Group...

"Hands Group is an Australian, New Zealand and Thai social enterprise that gives at-risk Thai children and their communities a helping hand through our charity Hands Across The Water. Our charity Hands Across The Water is currently the biggest Australian and New Zealand charity operating in Thailand. Our projects are tailored to meet local communities’ needs – for the long term. As part of our fundraising, we provide shared experiences for our supporters to engage in our work."

Of course, if this is something you can't do... then any donation would be greatly appreciated. Here is my profile page for the bike ride where you can donate. Click on the image below.

THANK YOU!

500km, 5 days, $5000 - and your chance to WIN!

Why the raffle?

Because it’s a fun way of raising money! Read below to find out why I’m fundraising…

About what I'm doing...

I'm going to ride 500km in 5 days through Thailand to raise money for the New Life project in Kanchanaburi, located near the Thai-Burma border in western Thailand. More than 50 children call Kanchanaburi home.

Children at Kanchanaburi have come from difficult situations: sexual abuse, substance addictions, or they have no family to care for them. Others have been used as exploited labour.

I need to fundraise $5,000: 100% of donations go directly to the children in Thailand. Yes, that’s right - no admin, marketing or whatever is taken out of your donation.

Hands Group is an Australian social enterprise that gives at-risk Thai children and their communities a helping hand through our charity Hands Across The Water.

You can purchase your raffle tix by donating via my fundraising page (click on image above). I’ll then send you your raffle tix. OR you can buy them at La Bomba dance studio in Adelaide OR from me direct.

Every dollar counts. Every dollar helps these beautiful children - so please consider buying a ticket (or more ;))

THANK YOU!

When things go wrong while travelling.

I've travelled a lot in my life - with and without kids. And I will continue to travel for as long as I can, as much as I can. 

We always remember the good times, even though they aren't all good. Now it's time to crack open the treasure chest and let a few rip...

In this series, I will tell the tales of when things go wrong. It can be near disaster to mild discomfort. Embrace it. If you travel, you will chance upon some not so positive times. Learn from the experience of others, realise you are not the only one. It's all part of the journey. Without fear, new adventures and mild despair, there is no learning, excitement and wonder. Lean into the fear. If you feel uncomfortable, that is where life is changing. 

Some of the lessons I'm probably yet to learn, but here are my experiences. 

#1 Most Dramatic. The tsunami.

Ok, so before I go much further, let me explain. A tsunami didn't eventuate, but for about five hours we thought a disaster was on its way. 

We were strolling through the gardens of our resort, back to our beachfront villa, when another Aussie guest came zooming past on a golf cart yelling 'a tsunami is coming, quick, a tsunami is coming'. Hubby and I, strollers holding our two sleeping children in front of us, look at each other confused, then decide to turn back to the reception area where we had just come from to check what is happening. 

A leisurely stroll through the tropical gardens after checking flight details turns to a speedy workout pushing strollers up the nearest mountain.

'Yes, there is a tsunami warning. We are recommending all guests head up to the roof of the hotel.' 

'Um, ok'. We turn to where she is pointing, my heart is pounding, and wonder how we are going to lug both strollers up the five flights (plus) of stairs. Something catches my eye as we look. It's the staff carpark - what seems like every staff member of the hotel is jumping on their bike and zooming off. I get even more concerned. Me always being inquisitive, I ask the doorman where they are going. 'Up the hill or to their home', he replies. 

'Where would you go?' I ask. He points through the carpark and says there is a big hill right there that goes straight up. We make our decision,  thank him and start running. 

He is right; the hill starts just the other side of the road from where the car park sits. About a third of the way up I decide we need to buy as much water as we can - since we could be stuck up there for god knows how long. I beeline it into a closed restaurant and ask for water. She only has four bottles left, so I buy them all. We then continue our ascent. 
We must look tired, or the locals are ultra friendly. A couple of times a friendly local comes and picks up our strollers and carries them up the hill for us. On one location, the local insists we are high enough, that the water won't make it this high, but I can see more hill and more altitude, so we push on. Sweat is pouring down our foreheads and backs, it's amazing the energy you have with adrenalin pumping fierce through every body part. 

Half way up the hill. Lots of locals felt comfortable stopping here to wait in the shade but I kept thinking 'there is more hill, more safety'. So we kept hiking up.

Finally, we make it nearly to the top. We are high, and I am satisfied that no wave will reach us here. My heart is still pumping at dizzying speed. Now my mind is asking a million questions.
How will I feed Ashton, who is bottle fed, with only one bottle of formula?
What if Belle gets hungry?
Oh no, I've lost all my photos of the trip?
I've lost my computer, and my work?
How will we get to the airport? 
I don't want to go to the airport; it's at sea level. 
It's going to be crazy, and dirty, and still life-threatening when this ends.
How long will we be stranded in Phuket for?

We rested here until the lovely local came and asked us back to her home around the corner.

A beautiful local on her scooter potters past and asks us back to her home. She is asking all the families back to her home for food and to sleep. We take her up on the offer. It's only 50m or so further up the hill, and it means the kids will be out of the sun. 

Another Australian family from the resort we are staying at comes to the house also. Belle plays with the little boy while Ashton sleeps - oblivious as to why we are up a hill in the middle of nowhere. Our friendly locals feed them colourful sugar treats, packets of chips and, as night falls, cooks us all up eggs, vegetables and rice. 

During the hours we spend with them, they are watching the news on tv and trying to translate what is being reported.
We hear -
Indonesia is wiped out
Hundreds have already been killed
The wave will hit Phuket about 9 pm
There are three 8m waves

Belle had no idea what was happening. She was happy to get to watch stuff on a new friends iPad.

Meanwhile, Ashton was getting hungry. With only a couple of mineral waters and one formula bottle, I had help trying to entertain and distract him.

So you can understand we are trembling with fear while trying to remain calm. I ask the Australian mum of a little boy Ashton's age if she can breastfeed Ashton if needed. I also ask them if I can borrow their phone to call home. I phone my Dad, the only number I can remember, and tell him what is happening - then to pass the information on to the rest of the family. I don't know if I can ever explain the feeling of telling your dad that you are in a life-threatening situation, thousands of kilometres away, but 'should' be ok. 'I love you' seems so much stronger than any other time.

Ben also starts asking a few questions -
Shall I go down and get the formula
What if we go halfway down and find out what is happening
Should I go down and get a bag full of stuff - it's not meant to be here in the next hour

Of course, I say no, it's not worth risking his life over. The wave could hit at any time - we only hear very roughly translated news reports. 

Everyone helped to entertain the kids as the hours ticked on.

Or maybe the kids entertained the tourists?

And new friendships kindled. Apparently Belle invited him to her birthday party a few months later. He lives in a different city. 

At 9.30pm, after our local family had offered us, and ten others, their precious 3x3m tiled lounge floor to sleep on, we cautiously (and me very scared) inch back down the mountain. Lights around the town. There are few people moving around the streets. I am scared and don't want to go back to our beachfront resort. I convince Ben to see if we can get a room in a hotel on the hill somewhere. We try the first one we see but it seems nobody is there. The second one is full. Then we see a tourist family walking towards us. We ask what is happening. They say 'we think it is all called off'. Not the most reassuring, but it does make me feel slightly better. 

There is nothing else between our hotel and us so we dash to the reception. They confirm the tsunami is called off, and we can return to our rooms. But I'm not convinced. We are in a beachfront room and I can't shake my tension. I ask for a high floor room and am told all are full. Shattered, I ask if we can move resorts. But after a couple of calls, we are not having much luck. They offer to test our room alarm for us, which goes off in a tsunami warning. I agree. 

Finally, at midnight, I sleep lightly while Ben is awake watching tv and catching up on tea. Our daypacks are packed, ready to run, sitting near the doorway tonight. Later, when I notice Ben has turned the light off, I sleep even lighter, listening to every noise. To say I had a bad sleep was an understatement - I couldn't wait to leave in a few days time. But, that wasn't to be the end of it.

Just before dawn the next morning, our alarm goes off. I am up and out of bed, daypack on back and putting both kids in the strollers before Ben could even turn the light on. I didn't care I was in my summer pyjamas and that everyone would see. I commented I could smell smoke when we opened the door then ran. Not many others were up, but I didn't care. We made it to Reception in record time and were surprised only to see a few people there. I would have thought if a tsunami was coming, everyone would be hasty. 

But not everyone was there because there was no tsunami coming. It was a false alarm, the alarm going off by accident. I would normally have been furious, but I was too exhausted. We had only managed a few hours sleep, the kids eyes were goggling with tiredness, and now we were up for the day. 

Ben and I commented that day, if it weren't for our flight leaving the next day, we would be making arrangements to go home early. There is only so much you can take in one holiday, and this experience, on top of Ashton cutting a tooth and running fevers for the first seven days, was just too much. 

I think we got high enough. Even if three eight-metre waves had been on their way.

FYI, the movement that happened underwater that set off the tsunami warnings ended up being peaceful. The tectonic plates moved horizontally instead of vertically causing a minor ripple. Apparently, with the movement, if they had moved horizontally, this story would have had a very different ending. A tsunami bigger than the Boxing Day one would have been on its way. So we are told. 

Note to self. 
Try to listen to people with better English. 
Keep my phone usable but just disabled.
Learn an escape route on arrival at the holiday destination.

What have you learned from something going wrong on holiday?

Tourism crime and scams - the opening of first Crime Crisis Centre in Phuket

This week, the first Crime Crisis Centre, at Phuket International Airport opened its doors.

Another will be opened in downtown Phuket, both operating around the clock, in an aim to crack down on tourism crooks.

Crooks that range from ripping off tourists in jet-ski scams, accusing tourists of damaging the rental jet-skis and demanding huge sums for repairs to threat of physical violence.

I went to Phuket last year, and can certainly see how many scams there could be, and how the unassuming tourist is an easy target. Thai newspapers report that Russians, Koreans and Chinese have been active in both Phuket and Pattaya, some using Thais as nominees in setting up businesses to con foreigners. So it's big business.

It's just another reminder of how we need to be careful when travelling. Travel not only securing your personal belongings, but thinking with your head screwed on. Don't trust people on the street. Don't buy drugs. Don't say you will buy something, then change your mind. Don't go down into the slums. Don't take too many chances.

Do have fun. Do take notice of things. Do secure yourself. Do let your family and friends know your plans. Do get things in writing. Do use reputable companies.

I have been conned, probably more often than I know it. The one that comes to mind, is arriving at Peru airport at midnight, hotel booking in hand, being led astray by a tour company saying the hotel had closed, and they will find us a better hotel. They found us a hotel, but also at an extra cost. They also had us come in for a meeting the next morning, where they sold a 'cheap' package for travelling through Peru and Bolivia, including a tour of the Inca Trail. We weren't in any harm, the tour was brilliant, but we did pay much more than we should have.

That, I guess, is where planning and common sense comes in. Research what things cost, know what you want to do, and have options.

Travel is a wonderful thing, and can be so fulfilling and exciting. But with all excitement comes its dangers - stay safe.

On a plus side to travelling with kids...

I have been compiling a top 100 list about travelling with children for an eBook recently. Let me share one with you...

Tip: bless 'em.

Going on holiday doesn't stop the tantrums, the dirty nappies, the naps, the getting up in the middle of the night, the need to go to playgrounds. It does stop late night jaunts, long lazy meals, relaxing with a book, and lazing in the bed every morning before ambling to a mid morning breakfast.

It closes a number of doors, but where one door closes, another opens. Literally.

IN MOST CULTURES, CHILDREN ARE THE CENTRE OF ATTENTION.

You are invited in to families homes, people stop and chat, the children encourage conversation, you are looked after, and above all... you learn and experience more. You get out to the where the locals hang, venture to new frontiers (heck, go out the back gate!), meet many people in one day, and see a different way of life to your own back home. Whether you are travelling in your own state, or across the other side of the world.

In Phuket we were welcomed into a villagers home for the night. A woman on moped asked only families to come in. We were fed, offered a place on their lounge floor, and taken care of while a tsunami warning played out down below. Going up, locals even carried (yes, carried) our strollers up the hill in sections for us. Helping to get us away from the impending tsunami even faster. Thankfully, it never came, but we were safe indeed with locals.

In Bali we played on the beach and grass with local kids. None - adults or children - could verbally communicate with each other but so much fun was had.

Here in South Australia, we are constantly chatting to locals, finding the best coffee, playgrounds and places to go.

Have kids, will travel. Use it to your advantage to get more adventure and fun into your holiday. Get curious, and have it sated.